SCARLETT
I didn't listen to Simon, obviously. Ethan texted Wednesday and I said yes before I finished reading the message. Dinner, a small Italian place downtown, candlelit and quiet. The kind of place that felt romantic in a normal uncomplicated way.
I wore a black dress and told myself it had nothing to do with Simon.
It had everything to do with Simon.
Ethan was good company over dinner. He talked about a building he was designing for his thesis, something about negative space and how absence could be structural. I listened genuinely, asked questions, and laughed when he was funny.
He was funny. I hadn't expected that.
"You're different tonight," he said over dessert.
"Different how?"
"Relaxed." He tilted his head slightly. "Last time you kept looking at the door."
I hadn't rea
